The Copyright Question: A Letter to the Toronto Board of Trade

In Short

Written in 1902, this document serves as a passionate rebuttal by a prominent publisher against a misguided resolution from the Toronto Board of Trade. The author argues against a proposed "manufacturing clause"—which would force foreign books to be printed in Canada to receive copyright protection—by tracing the history of intellectual property laws and the damaging legacy of book piracy. It is an essential primary source for understanding how Canada transitioned from a fragmented, colonial market into a modern participant in the global literary economy.

The Story

The narrative begins with a controversy: the Toronto Board of Trade has adopted a resolution demanding that Canadian copyright be tied strictly to domestic printing and binding. The author, George N. Morang, reveals that this resolution is built upon a foundation of misinformation. Proponents of the bill cite the support of British figures like Hall Caine and Mr. Daldy, yet Morang produces evidence—including direct correspondence—that these men never consented to such restrictive measures. Excluded from the Board’s deliberations and denied the opportunity to speak, Morang takes his argument directly to the public to expose the "true position" of literary copyright.

Morang constructs his defense by looking backward. He reminds the reader of the "Foreign Reprints Act" of 1847, a period when Canada relied on cheap, pirated American editions of British books. This era was, he notes, a "blight" that stifled the development of a genuine Canadian publishing trade. He contrasts this with the 1891 Chace Bill in the United States, which finally ended the era of "scramble system" piracy, and the Berne Convention, which brought Canada into an international union of protected intellectual property.

The heart of the argument centers on the "Fisher Bill" of 1900. Morang explains that this legislation already provides a solution to the local industry’s grievances. Under the Fisher Act, Canadian publishers can secure exclusive rights to a work by obtaining a license from the author, which effectively protects them from the "Colonial Editions" that previously flooded the market from abroad. By establishing this legal framework, Canada has finally achieved a balance that benefits both the Canadian publisher and the foreign author.

As the letter draws to a close, Morang pivots from legal history to ethical necessity. He warns that if the Board of Trade succeeds in forcing a new, more aggressive manufacturing requirement, Canada would be expelled from the international copyright community. He argues that this would effectively revert the country to a state of "national morality" beneath that of civilized nations. The conclusion is a firm rejection of the Board’s plan, which he characterizes as a "highwayman’s" grab for property that does not belong to them. He stands by the existing laws, insisting that the prosperity of the Canadian book trade depends on upholding, rather than undermining, the rights of the creative class.

How It Unfolds

The catalyst of conflict Morang opens by identifying the resolution proposed by the Toronto Board of Trade as a dangerous attempt to force domestic manufacturing on foreign authors. He immediately challenges the factual basis of the resolution, noting that the Board was misled regarding the support of British literary authorities.

A history of scarcity The author provides a historical overview of the 1847 Foreign Reprints Act, illustrating the period when Canada was "deluged" with cheap, pirated American editions. He argues that this reliance on stolen intellectual property prevented the growth of a healthy, independent Canadian publishing sector.

The shift toward reciprocity Morang explains how the 1891 Chace Bill in the United States and the Berne Convention finally secured international rights for Canadian authors. He highlights that these gains were not the result of "sharp tricks," but of a long-fought struggle by authors and publishers to treat literature as legitimate property.

The Fisher Bill solution The argument moves to the 1900 Fisher Bill, which the author presents as a triumph of diplomacy. By allowing Canadian publishers to secure exclusive licenses, this law stabilized the market without needing to resort to the aggressive, exclusionary tactics the Board of Trade is now suggesting.

The ethical ultimatum In the final movement, Morang warns of the consequences of the Board’s proposed policies. He concludes that returning to a protectionist, isolationist stance would alienate Canada from the global market and harm the reputation of its own authors.

The People

George N. Morang is the voice of the work, a publisher who views the copyright question not just as a business matter, but as a moral one. He is principled, well-read in legal history, and deeply frustrated by the ignorance of his peers on the Board of Trade.

Mr. W.J. Gage acts as the primary antagonist, the Chairman of the Wholesale Booksellers' Section. Morang portrays him as a man who led his colleagues into a policy based on false pretenses, seemingly indifferent to the wider international implications of their actions.

Professor Mavor appears as a voice of reason. A representative of the Canadian Authors’ Society, Mavor works to find a "middle path" that respects international law while addressing the practical grievances of local publishers.

The "Uncle Sam" of the American publishing scene serves as a phantom figure. While Morang corrects the myths about American "sharp practice," he uses the history of the United States as a cautionary tale, illustrating how a nation suffers when it chooses piracy over the protection of intellectual property.

In Its Own Voice

"I regard any attempt to deprive authors of any rights in the property which is the product of their intellectual exertions as 'nothing short of a crime equal to that of a highwayman,' nor can I submit to remain a member of the Board of Trade without recording my warm dissent from the action of the Council and the Executive."

Morang concludes his argument by asserting the moral dimension of intellectual property, equating the theft of an author's work to the theft of physical property.

"The 'fifteen cent quarto' of the Libraries was not a book; it was usually sold for railway reading, and thrown away at the end of the journey."

Morang describes the low quality of the pirated American reprints that once flooded the Canadian market, emphasizing their lack of value to the reader.

What It's Really About

This is a treatise on the transition from colonial exploitation to modern sovereignty. Beneath the specific technicalities of copyright law lies a fundamental question: does a nation demonstrate strength by seizing foreign assets for its own local gain, or by participating in a system of international law that fosters mutual respect? Morang argues that the "copyright question" is a proxy for national maturity. He suggests that Canada’s economic interests are not served by isolationism or the arbitrary imposition of "reasonable royalties" on authors. Instead, he maintains that the growth of a domestic cultural industry is only possible when it aligns itself with the global standards of honor and fair compensation.

Why Read It Today

Reading this work today feels like sitting in on a heated, high-stakes boardroom debate from a century ago. Readers interested in the history of Canadian culture, the evolution of intellectual property, or the mechanics of international trade will find it illuminating. Morang’s prose is precise and unyielding, though the reader should be prepared for the dense, Victorian-era legal terminology that permeates the arguments.

The book is a snapshot of a moment when Canada was still defining its place in the world, caught between its British imperial ties and its proximity to the American media juggernaut. While the legislative acts he cites—like the Fisher Bill—have since been superseded by modern statutes, the core of his argument remains remarkably relevant. His indignation toward those who would ignore facts to push a nationalistic agenda feels strikingly contemporary. For those who enjoy archival documents that challenge the status quo, this letter provides a clear, uncompromising look at how a single, vocal dissenter can attempt to steer an entire industry toward a more ethical path. It is a dense, necessary text for anyone curious about how the rules of the literary world were actually written.